


Name of the Past

by seasonalreign



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crowley is Raphael, Crowley remembers, First Kiss, Heaven is Terrible (Good Omens), M/M, and fluff, crowley and aziraphale invented kissing, i dont know how to tag anything, it gets pretty soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21723898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasonalreign/pseuds/seasonalreign
Summary: Crowley remembered everything about Heaven.He remembered the other angels, the pureness, the feeling of God’s love, the way it felt to soar through the heavens, wings light and carefree. He remembered creating the stars, and he remembered meeting Aziraphale for the first time.He also remembered the Fall.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 110





	Name of the Past

**Author's Note:**

  * For [locololo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/locololo/gifts).



Crowley remembered everything about Heaven. 

He remembered the other angels, pureness, the feeling of God’s love, the way it felt to soar through the heavens, wings light and carefree. He remembered preening another angel's wings and being able to trust someone else to preen his. He remembered creating the stars, the feeling of siblinghood, and he remembered his name. Crowley first met Aziraphale when he was creating the stars. The other angel had hovered nearby, always gazing at Crowley with clouded, awestruck eyes. 

It had taken a while to finally talk to him, though. As a Principality angel, Aziraphale had been following after the other higher-ranking angels. Though other Principality angels ranked higher than the Archangels did, Aziraphale had been created specifically to watch over, guide, and provide for the mortals on Earth, but God had yet to create those beings. Alpha Centauri had just been finished when he got to speak with Aziraphale for the first time. 

He had always been a nervous angel, and when Crowley had settled beside him, tired and sore but incredibly satisfied and proud of his work, the angel startled. He had turned to look at Crowley with wide eyes. “Enjoy the little show?”

Aziraphale had turned bright red. “Um- well-” he had stuttered, eyes flicking around the area. “You just look very beautiful when you work. And everything always looks stunning at the end.” 

Crowley had smiled and turned to face him fully. Just as he was taking a breath to speak, one of the Archangels shouted for Aziraphale and approached. “Aziraphale! What do you think you’re doing? Don’t you know not to bother an Archangel at work?” 

He had blanched and turned to Crowley, the lovely red blush falling away to paled fear. “Archangel?” He had repeated weakly. 

Crowley had smiled and lifted his shoulders in a small shrug, “Raphael.”

Aziraphale paled even more and backed away, bowing and spreading his wings out low. “My deepest apologies, sir,” He said quickly. “I didn’t know.”

Crowley had waved off the apology, but the other angel was already walking away with Aziraphale in tow. It had taken a lot of work but Crowley had been able to win him over. Before long they were grooming each other's wings and taking flights together. Crowley would ask Aziraphale for his ideas on the star or planetary system he was working on and Aziraphale would ask Crowley for his opinion or help on tasks the higher ranking angels had assigned him. 

But remembering Heaven and being Raphael meant that he also remembered falling. 

It happened the day he kissed Aziraphale for the first time. 

They had gone on a flight together and it had ended in a race, Crowley shooting across the declared finish line just before Aziraphale did. Crowley had wheeled around, cheering victoriously as he headed back to the other angel. He swooped down and grabbed Aziraphale, lifting him and crushing him against his chest as he tucked his wings in and shot up. 

It was a split second of a flight, but the air curled around them like a playful caress, ruffling Aziraphale’s curls and their robes. Crowley’s chest twisted funnily as he gazed down at the angel wrapped in his arms, lips stuck in a splitting grin. His wings shot out, catching the wind and they coasted gently to the ground where he landed and set Aziraphale down. “Beat ya, Zira,” Crowley said gleefully. If he’d been human or pretending to be human, his chest would have been heaving. But as an ethereal being, he just let out a light laugh.

Aziraphale looked at him and pouted, arms crossing his chest. “ Yes, yes. Good for you, my dear.”

Crowley grinned and stepped closer, bending slightly to look up at Aziraphale from underneath his lashes. “C’mon, Zira,” he slung an arm around him. “Don’t be pouty.”

“I’m not pouty,” Aziraphale denied, finally meeting Crowley’s eyes. “I’m just-” he blinked, gaze flicking down to Crowley’s lips and getting stuck there. “Just-”

Crowley had straightened up and was gazing down at Aziraphale with the same intensity he was watching Crowley’s lips with. Slowly, Crowley cupped Aziraphale’s cheek and stepped closer. “Zira,” He breathed.

Aziraphale’s gaze flicked up to Crowley’s eyes and he swallowed, cheeks beginning to flush. He had nodded, and Crowley had watched the way Aziraphale’s eyes slipped closed as he finally brought their lips together. He’d barely had time to memorize the way Aziraphale’s blonde eyelashes laid gently against his pink cheeks before his own eyes were slipping closed and he pressed closer to the other angel.

The kiss itself wasn’t anything particularly special, even if it  _ was  _ the first kiss in history. It was just two beings pressing their lips together. But it  _ felt  _ like everything else. They could feel each other’s love, their shared happiness, and though it was just their mouths, even the pressure of Aziraphale pushing up against his mouth was more enjoyable than Crowley had thought it would be.

They parted shortly but neither went far. Both of them were blushing, and Aziraphale’s eyes had filled with unshed tears. Crowley had reached up with a shaking hand, wanting to brush them away before they fell. His hand rand into an invisible barrier that had appeared between them and before he could ask what it was, he was suddenly being pulled away from Aziraphale and back towards the central meeting place. 

Crowley struggled, kicking wildly and watching with wide, terrified eyes as Aziraphale called out after him, flying as fast as he could just to keep up with the force that was pulling him away. Crowley looked around, unable to flip so he could see where he was going but needing to know what was happening, and saw other angels being pulled by the same force. 

He landed hard, rolling to his feet and facing the ranking Archangels that stood shoulder to shoulder, staring at the group of gathered angels. “You have been judged,” Gabriel intoned, bored. “And our Lord, our God, has decided on a punishment. You will be cast out.” 

Behind the gathered group, the ground shook and ripped open. Flames licked at the sides of the crater and the stink of sulfur drifted up. Beside him, Lucifer was yelling, spittle flying, but Crowley didn’t hear it. Nothing penetrated the loud ringing in his ears. His eyes had locked with Aziraphale’s the second he heard his fate, and he could see his own emotions being reflected at him. Aziraphale’s beautiful, clear blue eyes were filled with tears. Crowley felt too numb to react to anything. 

Lucifer was the first to go. Some angels fell willingly, diving into the fire with vicious, barbed words of promised revenge flying from their mouths. Others were pulled by that same invisible force, crying out for forgiveness, for another chance. Crowley was the only one that stood in uncomprehending shock until that same force wrapped around his middle and tugged, his feet dragging along the ground. 

Like a switch flipped somewhere inside, Crowley leaped forward, fighting to get back to Aziraphale. At the same time, Aziraphale had begun pushing his way towards Crowley, his feet barely skimming the ground. 

“Aziraphale!” Crowley had yelled, voice cracking. It was working, they were getting closer. He stretched a hand out, reaching for him, and Aziraphale mirrored him. 

They were a hairsbreadth from each other when the other angels caught up to Aziraphale. They grabbed him by his arms, pulling him firmly to the ground and stopping him from getting any farther. As Crowley watched Aziraphale struggle, tears streaming down his face, he felt the force pulling him constrict tightly around him and then he was moving faster, everything whipping by him in a blur. 

“Raphael!  _ No!”  _ Crowley heard Aziraphale yell, heard his voice break, and then his vision was swamped with flame. The last thing he remembered seeing was Aziraphale, tears streaming down his face with misery stamped into every line. 

He fell slowly. Fire ate away at his white robe, leaving them smoldering and black. Sulfuric acid ate at his skin, despite never having a lasting effect. From the corner of his eye, Crowley saw his wings catch fire, felt the burning pain as it spread from the tips of his primary feathers to the bone in his back. The last thing he felt before the Fall got too intense to endure was a hot, stabbing pain spreading over his eyes like a brand.

The next time Crowley saw Aziraphale was in the Garden when he was Crawly. He had slithered up to him, heart in his throat and shame churning in his stomach. Crowley had no idea how the angel would react to seeing him. He just knew he’d been waiting for so long to see Aziraphale again. When Aziraphale had turned to him, no recognition in his eyes, and had needed Crowley to supply a name, it had been as painful as the Fall itself.

The breath had punched out of his lungs, and it had taken all the will he had to keep himself from begging the angel to remember him. He knew it would do no good. Crowley didn’t doubt that all the angels’ memories from before the Fall were gone. 

* * *

The apoca-wasn’t had come and gone. Nearly six months after the not-fight and the successful body swap, Crowley and Aziraphale had settled nicely into their new life. Aziraphale had his bookshop, at which he rarely sold a book as opposed to selling rare books, and Crowley had his Bently and his plants. They had moved into the flat above the shop after miracling it to be a bit more comfortable for the two of them. 

Crowley had been out all day, performing a few temptations and placing a few mild curses on a few, particularly deserving humans. He strolled into the bookshop, the sign flipping to closed with a flick of his finger. “Hey angel,” Crowley greeted. “Ready to go?”

Crowley had booked a reservation at the restaurant in advance as opposed to miracling a free table when they got there. Aziraphale was flipping carefully through an old book, hands gloved and round spectacles perched adorably on his nose. Sometimes, Crowley wanted to kiss him so bad it hurt.

He looked up and gave Crowley a wide smile, “Yes, dear. Let me finish up here and we’ll go.” 

Crowley leaned against the door frame while Aziraphale stripped off his gloves and set his glasses on his desk. He straightened his coat and cleared his throat, then came around. “Alright, lead the way.” 

Crowley drove them to the restaurant, a nice Italian place they hadn’t been to yet, where Aziraphale ate dinner and Crowley sipped his wine and watched. Aziraphale talked about the new book he had acquired, the one that he had been flipping through when Crowley had come home. He talked about the customers he had to chase out of the shop and the stubborn woman who insisted on buying a book she clearly didn’t know how to handle properly. 

Crowley listened, nodding and humming when appropriate and smothering his chuckles when Aziraphale huffed over the woman. When he had finished dinner, Crowley ordered a desert and accepted a few bites. Aziraphale moaned over the decadent taste and as they were leaving, thanked Crowley for the meal. 

It was getting late by the time they rolled up to the bookshop, Crowley opening the door for Aziraphale before locking it with a snap after him. When he heard Aziraphale gasp, he was running across the shop to the back room before he could even understand what was happening. He was standing between Aziraphale and the intruder, a woman dressed sharply in sacks and a business suit before he knew it. 

It took a second for the realization to kick in but when it did, Crowley froze. God had broken into their bookshop. Unbidden, a defensive hiss rose from the back of Crowley’s throat as he stared at Her. “How dare you come here?”

Aziraphale gasped and pushed at Crowley’s shoulder but he didn’t budge. All Crowley could think of was the last time he had been involved with God which was when he had been ripped from Aziraphale’s side. When he fell. His hand grasped for Aziraphale with a desperation he despised. “My Lord, I’m so sorry. He didn’t mean that.”

“I certainly meant that!” Crowley exclaimed, taking a step forward and dragging Aziraphale with him, coincidentally, “Why are you here?” 

“I understand you’re upset, Raphael-” God started.

_ “Do not call me that name,”  _ Crowley hissed venomously, his snake eyes narrowing to paper-thin slits.

“Raphael?” Aziraphale asked, confusion in his voice. “Who is Raphael?”

God’s eyebrows rose slowly and her gaze shifted from Aziraphale to Crowley, “You haven’t told him,” She said. It should have been a question but it wasn’t.

“Why would I tell him anything about that time? He doesn’t remember anything, and I’m a demon. When could I have told him when he would believe me?” Crowley shot back, defensively. Being around Her was setting him on edge, making him feel like he had to check over his shoulder and he didn’t like it, didn’t like feeling like he was being played with.

“You mean you haven’t ki-” God began, only be cut off.

“Of course I haven’t!” Crowley snarled, ignoring the flush rising to his cheeks. “The last time I did you  _ cast me out of Heaven.”  _

“Excuse me-” Aziraphale said. Nobody acknowledged him.

“But it’s been six thousand years,” She said.

Crowley hissed, stalking forward, still clutching Aziraphale’s wrist like a lifeline. Suddenly, like a switch had been flipped, he turned and reached for Aziraphale, eyes panicked behind his glasses. When Crowley had taken a step forward, Aziraphale had jerked his away. All Crowley could feel was the last time he had been ripped away from Aziraphale. Fear flooded his body. 

_ “What  _ is going on here?” Aziraphale shouted, demanding. Crowley flinched, trying to stop himself from reaching out for the angel. Aziraphale was standing up straight, shoulders back and chin held level. He exuded power. 

“Raphael, would you like to take it from here?” God asked, looking between the two beings. 

“What good would explaining do when his memories are gone?” Crowley asked, shoulders already dropping in defeat. 

God stared at him for a moment, then snapped her fingers. “If you explain, he’ll remember. Good luck,” She said. “And Crowley? I’m sorry I had to cast you out. The Plan wouldn’t have worked if you’d stayed,” She added, and then she was gone.

“Explain, Crowley,” Aziraphale demanded, and Crowley swallowed nervously. 

He had been an angel, the first time he and Aziraphale had been together, for however short a time it was. Now he was a demon, branded with snake eyes and a hiss to remind him of what he had become. But Aziraphale was asking, and Crowley had never been good at telling him no. 

“In Heaven, before I fell, my name was Raphael,” Crowley said. 

“As in the Archangel Raphael?” Aziraphale questioned.

Crowley nodded. “When I was finishing Alpha Centauri, you were watching me. I stopped to rest next to you, and we talked for a few seconds before you found out I was an Archangel. It took a lot of work to become your friend because you were so afraid to bother an Archangel. We were friends for a while. The day of the Fall was…” Crowley cleared his throat and looked away from Aziraphale’s gaze. “The day I Fell was the first time I kissed you.”

Aziraphale was quiet, and Crowley didn’t dare look at him. He didn’t know what he’d see and it terrified him. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said. “Look at me.”

Crowley let his eyes drift slowly from the floorboards to the angel’s eyes. He flinched at the smoldering anger he found there. “You knew something this important for  _ six thousand years  _ and you didn’t tell me?” Aziraphale demanded.

Crowley shivered at the power pouring from him. Though he had been treated as a lesser angel in Heaven, Aziraphale was a Principality which meant he ranked higher than the Archangels did. This was a powerful angel in his domain, and he was furious.

“What could I say, angel?” Crowley asked, venom seeping into his voice. “I’m a demon, which you’ve reminded me of many times. When we were both angels in Heaven, it was different. You felt the way I did. The same can’t be said now.” It hurt, to know that all he’d have with Aziraphale was the single kiss they’d shared on the worst, most painful day of his life. But Crowley wouldn’t give that single kiss for anything. It had fueled him for six thousand years so far, it could keep him going for longer.

“Who made that decision?” Aziraphale asked, glaring at Crowley.

It was his turn to be confused, “Excuse me?”

“Who decided I don’t feel that way now?” He asked. “You’ve never asked me.”

Crowley stared. “Well, do you?”

Aziraphale leveled him with a strange look. It was fondness and frustration turned to one. “Of course I do,” He took a step closer to Crowley, arms coming up to circle his shoulders. Crowley watched with wide eyes as Aziraphale leaned in slowly.

“Zira,” Crowley breathed, and he was hit with a bittersweet rush of deja vu. Aziraphale paused, inches from his face. Crowley ripped his gaze from the angel’s lip to meet his eyes, “I’m not an angel, and I can’t go back to being one.”

“I know, my dear. I don’t want you any way but how you are,” Aziraphale answered, just as softly, and then pressed his lips to Crowley’s.

This kiss was different for Crowley. This time, his knees buckled and he had to grab onto Aziraphale, pulling him as close as he could. Before, Crowley had kissed Aziraphale softly, gently. It was the first kiss he’d ever been a part of. Now, Crowley threw everything he had into the kiss, pouring himself into every slide of his lips against Aziraphale’s. 

Warm tears slid down his cheeks unchecked, and when his back his the wall, Crowley broke the kiss with a puff of air. He kept his eyes closed, chest heaving with emotion. It was silent in the shop except for his harsh breaths. Aziraphale was all around him, boxing him in. Crowley felt Aziraphale’s arms shift from where they were pressed against the wall to wrap around his shoulders. 

With a shudder and a low sob, Crowley fell against Aziraphale, pulling the angel closer until he was slotted between Crowley’s legs and their chests touched. Crowley tucked his head into Aziraphale’s shoulder and when Aziraphale began carding his hand through Crowley’s hair, he went boneless with a deep sigh. If it weren’t for Aziraphale holding Crowley he would be on the floor. 

“I missed you so much,” Crowley whispered, voice wavering with tears as he tightened around the fabric of Aziraphale’s coat.

“I’m here, my dear,” Aziraphale whispered, swallowing thickly, “I’m here.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! This has been sitting in my drive for months now, oops.  
> Come find me at [starksholisticdesign](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/starksholisticdesign) on Tumblr!


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